UNEXPECTED
by Love Psychedelico
Summary: [SLASH] Vancha March would have never guessed. Who would have, for that matter? Or maybe it was obvious from the moment they had met. Maybe there's a 'meant to be' for each and every person, even for a scruffy, smelly, disgusting old prince like himself.
1. Unexpected

**Disclaimer and Warning **- Not many spoilers, so to speak, but I'm guessing you've finished at least book 7 if you know who Vancha is. Rated for male-to-male sexual references, language and adult themes like prostitution. Dark humour ensues, beware of the male sue-ness. I don't own Darren Shan, Mark Twain, or Hyde. Imagine how rich I would be if I owned all three.

* * *

_Unexpected_

Through space and time the path unwinds

Leading me straight to you

_Unexpected_

Reaching across a moonlit square

We found each other's hands

_Unexpected_

Under the blessing of the stars

The life poured into us

Isn't fate mysterious?

To meet is so - **UNEXPECTED**

* * *

For **Inyx** - I have no idea what I'm doing, but here it goes. It's just the beginning of it, and I didn't think it was ready to post yet, but I really wanted to apologise to you, so this is _my_ make-up fic. I hope you like it more than I do.

* * *

Vancha March would have never guessed. Who _would _have, for that matter? Or maybe it was obvious from the moment they had met. Maybe there _is _a 'meant to be' for each and every person, even for a scruffy, smelly, disgusting old vampire like himself.

But then again, he _did _have a few friends who understood him, and a few was all he wanted. Having friends, for him, meant more sorrow when he lost them, or they lost him. It was something not so necessary. Nothing essential, just nice to have around. He never got too close to them, either. When things go too far, he'd leave. When people start depending on him - start liking him, wanting more than just friendship - or even fall in love with him (which he refuses to admit has never really happened), he'd run away. "I'm a Prince, for god's sakes," he'd tell himself - "I can't have someone I care for more than the clan." Not that he thought he was ever going to meet someone like that.

After all, like the late Mark Twain said, "I am prepared to meet anyone, but whether anyone is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter." Vancha was quite sure this applied to himself. Not too many people think favourably of a shabby unshaven middle-aged man who walks around in animal skin and animal skin only, tinting his hair green, and picking his nose, farting, and spitting wherever and whenever he felt the need to.

However, fate is a curious little thing. Just when you think it's never going to happen to you - that you're never going to meet that special someone made just for you - you suddenly find yourself staring into his face, whether you're ready for it or not. And it was just like so for Vancha March, one very cold winter night in a side alley of the down skirts of a small city near the sea. He found himself staring into the stormy grey eyes of a not-so-innocent looking young man.

'What do you want?'

The teenager glared straight back at Vancha, eyes narrowed, smoke rising from the cigarette he held idly in his hand. He pushed his spiky jet-black hair out of his face with his free hand, fixing his almost-captivating dark stormy eyes on Vancha's. He wasn't wearing much - torn, dirty jeans, and a tattered black shirt open at the front, revealing his smooth chest. The lack of proper clothing showed that he was in good shape - not overly thin, not too fragile. . . Vancha kept his eyes on him, quickly estimating that this boy was in his late teens, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, still underage in this country - and he was on the streets, late at night, smoking.

'Where do you live?'

'Here. What do you want?'

He asked again warily, giving Vancha a blatant once-over, eyes calculating as he surveyed the man's not-so-commendable appearance.

'If you're not a customer, then fuck off. You're scaring off the rich ones.'

'. . . Who says I'm not? And what exactly are you. . . selling?'

Vancha dared to ask, squatting in front of the boy. He pushed into his own trouser pocket the last-minute cirque tickets that he was supposed to be selling on the streets that night. An angry Mr Tall was not an attractive thought, but he couldn't care less. The show was starting in half an hour anyway, no one's going to buy. The boy's pale pink lips curled into an amused smirk, as he took a breath from his cigarette and puffed it out into the evening chill.

'My arse, moron, what else?'

'Your. . . . _what_?'

'Are you deaf with earwax or something? _I sell my body to men. _I live here. I sell. C'est la vie. Clear enough? Now go bother someone else, dick-head.'

He dropped the cigarette on the ground, watching it fizzle and extinguish in the wet gutter. He shook the dishevelled hair out of his face, and swam his gaze towards the streets where people were still bustling past hurriedly. Vancha just sat there, gaping. What could have forced a boy so young to a life of prostitution in the gutters? The boy sighed, and glared at Vancha, noting the fact that he was still not gone.

'If you want me so badly, then pay. Once for 50 bucks, twice for 90, 30 for a blow, and if you so want, 300 for the whole night. First timers get 10 percent off the stated prices. You look like you're badly in need of some, I can take care of it. I've been on the streets for nearly a decade, I know when a man's not getting any.'

'That is none of your business!'

'Actually, it _is_ my business. I thrive on it.'

'For god's sakes, _why_ are you doing this?'

'Cause I have no other way to live, idiot. Don't look to me like you're the type who can afford a whore, though. Are you buying, or not?'

'Fine! You're coming with me.'

Vancha pulled out the cirque tickets from his pocket, and pushed one into the boy's outstretched hand. He shot Vancha a withering look.

'That don't look like a 50 dollar note to me.'

'It's worth 60.'

'It's a fucking piece of paper.'

'It's very rare.'

'I don't care. No money, no shagging. 's the ultimate thing you learn in life, man. In the end, you can only trust two things - yourself, and little grey pieces of paper called money.'

'For the love of _god_, I'm not going to hurt you!'

'And you expect me to believe this because?'

'. . . . Fine.'

Vancha took off a small cotton sack on his belt, and handed the boy the whole thing. What the heck, he thought, I'm sure Hibernius would understand why I gave away all of that night's profits to a nameless whore on the streets - NOT. The boy opened the sack, looked inside, and whistled, an impressed grin playing at his lips. He then looked up, a whole new expression on his face - attractive, seductive and. . . beautifully sweet. He smirked, taking Vancha's stubby hand and shaking it vigorously.

'Deal. And you are. . . ?'

'I could be asking the same of you.'

'Just Harley. Harlequinn, if you must know. Now, you.'

'Vancha March.'

'Well then Mr March, for tonight . . . '

Harley grinned, a lazy, arrogant grin;

'. . . I'm all yours.'

* * *

'Hurry!' 

Vancha yelled, pushing through the flowing crowd on the street, checking his watch every five seconds or so. Harley frowned, letting himself be pulled violently forwards by the arm. The city lights were bright on them as they rushed through the night, Vancha running much faster than he looked like he could - and Harley tripping and stumbling after him.

'What's the haste? I mean, we have the whole night, let's take things more slowly, hey?'

'We only have ten minutes!'

'Ten? You last that long? That's pretty good for an old man like you.'

Harley exclaimed in fresh admiration, staring at Vancha's crotch, obviously getting the wrong meaning. Vancha stopped for a second, letting Harley catch his breath -

'Mr March. . . .may I enquire as to . . . . where we're going?'

'Shhhh, just take deep breaths, we've still got a lot to run. And we only have. . . shit, 8 minutes! Hibernius is always on time, too, he'll close the gates right on the tick.'

Vancha mumbled, not even a little tired or out of breath. Harley pouted, his petal-like lips forming a little 'o' as he cocked his head sideways.

'There's a nice little alleyway just around the corner there if you want me so quickly - but if you prefer softer surfaces, there's a nice cheap love-hotel a street across from here with sexy fur beds and great hireable bondage. Or another option would be a disused meat factory, there's some sleeping quarters in there, it might be a little musty but it's something. . . . .Agh!'

Harley stumbled as Vancha checked his watch, swore, and started running again - Harley protested between gasps for breath, cursing his aching sides.

'I swear. . . .I won't be as good. . . if you tire me so much. . . .I mean. . . .they say sex is never good . . . when you're depressed or. . . . exhausted. . .!'

Vancha paid no attention to Harley, cursing and running at a speed normal men of his age would be killing himself doing. Harley gave up protesting, and decided to save his breath for later when he'd be doing his "duty" for Vancha.

* * *

It was one of those moments. One of those moments when gladness just washes over you like white bubbly waves spreading over a sandy beach. One of those clichéd "warm fuzzy feeling" moments, when you just sit back, a smile on your lips, and you just know that what you've worked for was really really worth it. And it damn well **was **worth it for the tired stinky Prince, as he sat back and watched the glowing expression of the boy sitting next to him. 

It was worth losing the $500 Hibernius had trusted him with, it was worth killing his legs to run a few kilometres in 10 minutes, it was worth all the poisonous glares he got from people on the street as he dragged an obvious male whore around the city. It was worth every fucking minute of embarrassment, even if it was just for that one moment of gladness.

Harley said nothing, as he watched the cirque performers one by one. He said nothing, but his face gave him away so obviously. He may have lived a decade on the streets - he may think he knows everything he needs - but he had never seen anything like this, anything so bizarre, so amazing and wonderful. Vancha watched - not the stage but at the boy's face - the different angles of the shades of light illuminating the wonder in his eyes as he watched Truska grow her beard, every breath he swallowed as Cormac cut himself up and regrew himself, every laugh he held back as he watched Rhamus stuff himself with anything and everything imaginable. His eyes were that of a child as he watched the show - not a whore, not the adult he tried to be, nothing but a child's eyes full of wonder and innocence. And those eyes - took Vancha's breath away.

As the twilight faded into night, and night fell to midnight, every minute seemed like a second, every hour like a breath. Time is an illusion, they say, and especially so for a vampire. Ten years has its weight on a human - but not on a vampire. As does a day - a day is enough to deepen a wrinkle on a woman's face - but not on a vampiress's. It's like that. That night was one of those nights.

When the deepest of midnights died and even the trees and grass had fallen asleep - the show ended with Evra's final appearance. That was when Harley spoke for the first time.

'That boy. . . '

'What? You know Evra?'

Vancha asked, running some spit through his hair as he winked at a lady who walked past them to the exit. Harley shook his head slowly, and met Vancha's gaze. His eyes had returned to those cool, adult, calculating eyes again, Vancha noticed with disappointment.

'He has the same eyes.'

'. . . What eyes?'

'He was the same as me, wasn't he? He used to do the same things I do. I see it in his eyes.'

'. . . . He did. He wasn't free like you, though. Hibernius had to buy him off a brothel owner. He was mistreated badly - but he's better now. He's not as scared; everyone is good to him here.'

'I thought freak shows whip their freaks.'

'No, not here. Hibernius is a great person, he really is.'

Vancha smiled, eyeing Harley as he frowned incredulously.

'Who's Hibernius?'

'He's the owner of this place, and shit, speaking of the devil. . . '

Vancha grumbled, biting his lip and turning around 180 degrees to face the tall cirque master who had just popped up out of nowhere. The tall man greeted Harley with a slight bow and a tilt of his top hat, before smiling at Vancha.

'I noticed there were few empty seats tonight. You must have sold well.'

'Yeah. . . well,' Vancha shifted in his seat uncomfortably, 'I need to talk to you about that, actually.'

'Yes, I could see. I have noticed also that the bag I had given you is nowhere to be seen.'

'You mean this?'

Harley grinned, holding the sack that Vancha had paid him with. Vancha swore, a headache creeping in. Hibernius raised an eyebrow.

'Well, well, well. Vancha March, may I enquire as to why this young man has our profits, and what I would like to hear is that he was just helping you sell the tickets, but I know I will not hear that.'

'Damn you and your "foreseeing abilities".'

Vancha rolled his eyes. Hibernius's jet-coal eyes twinkled brightly, as he bent down and looked into Harley's eyes.

'Your name, young man?'

'. . . What if I don't want to tell you?'

Harley glared back self-consciously, backing away a little, holding the money sack close to his chest. Hibernius chuckled.

'Well in that case, you must allow me to read you.'

Harley frowned, confused - Hibernius smirked, then closed his eyes for a while - and opened them, smiling slightly.

'Harlequinn, prefer to be called Harley, no last name, no home, no parents. You live on the streets and I know what your job is although I will not say it out loud.'

'What the. . . ?'

Harley's eyes opened wide, and he backed away a few more seats, trying to hide from the tall man's gaze. Vancha chuckled. Hibernius turned to Vancha, glaring.

'And you, Vancha March, you are not in the position to be laughing. Although I admire your subtlety for bringing a homeless boy here, I do not admire the fact that you gave him the money we are supposed to have to buy our staff food and drink for the coming journey.'

'Sorry. . . I really, am, Hib, I just couldn't. . . .'

'I know. I will work this out. Harlequinn,'

Hibernius took a step closer to the curled up boy - Harley glared at him, curling into a smaller ball, guarding his money.

'I'm not giving it back! I earned it, and I'll work for it, I swear! I did as that man told me, and now I'll go and sleep with him and let him do whatever he wants to me, and then I'll do the same tomorrow night, and that'll pay off, right? Or you could join us, you know, I can easily make two men equally happy, I swear!'

'Harlequinn, I need the money back. . . '

'No! I need it too, I need to eat, I need to live - and I bet you have enough money as it is! You have a home, I don't! You have good clothes, I don't! You have a life, all of you, and no matter how hard I try, I never will! All I want to do is live, why can't you let me?'

Harley was close to tears now, scared to death but determined to guard the money. Hibernius sighed, scratching the dark hair underneath his top hat, and sitting down next to the boy.

'Vancha did not bring you here to hurt you, Harlequinn. Neither did he bring you here to sell you to me. He brought you here to set you free.'

'I _am_ free! Just let me keep the money and I'll go back to my street, and I'm always free! I'll always be there if you want to buy me again, just let me keep the money and. . . and. . .'

'You do not have to.'

'You do not have to return to your street, Harlequinn. You can stay here.'

'. . . . . . What?'

'Stay here, work here. We will give you a place to stay, clothes to wear, food to eat, and the freedom for you to leave whenever you want. Just give me back the money, stay here for two nights - and if you still do not want to stay, I will give you back the money, doubled, and you can return to your street.'

Harley considered it quietly, eyes calculating as he surveyed Hibernius.

'You won't make me work overtime? I can only handle three customers at once at the most, and 10 times a night is the limit to being pounded in the arse. I could pick up some after-show customers and let them shag me in a room, and you could have 20 of the profits, if you want me to work independently. Or I could easily sleep with your 'staff' and you can pay me for gratifying them, or. . . '

'Harlequinn, I will not make you work in that way.'

'. . . what do you mean?'

'As long as you are here, I will not let one man touch you, including Vancha.'

'But he paid for me!'

'No, not if you give the money back to me, remember? You will _not_ sleep with anyone but on your own or with the snake boy who you will share tents with, and your chores will be to work with Evra - cook breakfast, put out the washing, and get the cirque in place before a show. Nothing more, nothing less.'

'But. . . . I can't cook, I can't do anything. . . I only know one kind of work, and that's to. . .'

'Shhhhh. Evra and Vancha will help you. Do you want to give it a try, at least? Vancha does not just bring anyone here. He has seen something in you which may contribute to the cirque, and I see it too. You will be a great staff - if you would just give it a try.'

Harley glanced at Vancha, who grinned back, nodding. Harlequinn was so confused. All his life, everything anyone ever wanted from him was his body - not commitment to work, help, love, nothing like that, just gratification and pleasure they could get from his body. Anything less and they'd beat him and take their money back. So he learnt, he learnt how to please men and that's all he knew. He never went to school, he never learnt how to write even his name, and the illiterate downtown accent still hung heavy on his tongue. He didn't learn how to love, how to trust, how to share, how to give; he thought all of that was total crap that only existed on stupid fluffy soppy Christmas cards he saw dumped in the bins on the street when he went scavenging for food in the snow.

'. . . . .Alright.'

Harley croaked, surprising himself that he actually said it. Hibernius smiled, putting an arm around him, and whispered:

'Welcome to the Cirque du Freak, Harlequinn.'


	2. Angel's Tale

A.N. - Wheee, lots of reviews XD Thankyou! I'm just worried this won't live up to your expectations - complaints are welcome, as long as they are constructive, and thankyou for reading!

This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, so it will only be a few chapters long, and the story will move pretty quickly.. . .I think.

* * *

You drove the sinner from me

and shone with such glory

touching me softly

my breath torn away

I kept my feelings from you

the heavens divide us

I longed to tell you

all my heart's desire

_Angel's Tale_

* * *

'That young boy, in the words of Douglas Adams, is one of the least benightedly unpleasant organic life forms it has been my profound lack of pleasure not to be able to avoid meeting.'

Hibernius sighed, a smile on his lips as he stretched his tired long legs over his sofa. Vancha grinned, settling himself on a chair opposite the cirque master, yawning and blinking in the dusk's failing light.

'How's he been? What's happened during the day that I've missed?'

'Well, while you were snoring your head off, this place has been turned upside down. He's had this place in an uproar ever since he started working with Evra. He's pounced on Cormac and asked him what happens when he chops off a certain part of his anatomy, he's corrupted Evra with dirty thoughts about washing snakes as well as tried to get him naked, he's dared Rhamus to let him ride him, and he's been nothing but trouble to Truska.'

'Truska?'

'Yes, she's tried to wash him and get him to wear decent clothes, but he runs away every time, using you as an excuse.'

'Me?'

'Yes, Vancha, _you_. He says that everyone respects you when you are nothing but a scruffy old smelly middle-aged man with bad hair colour and woeful fashion. He argues that he should be allowed to look scruffy as well because you never seem to get in trouble.'

'Why that little brat, I'll . . !'

'He likes you, you know.'

Hibernius interrupted, smiling and watching in amusement as Vancha blinked and held back a surprised hiccup.

'He _what_. . .?'

'He likes you. He doesn't say that, of course, but he talks about you a lot. How you took him here, Vancha this, Vancha that, . . . you really do have a secret way of attracting people when you look like the least attractive life-form on this planet, don't you?'

'. . . . You're the only person I know who can insult and compliment at the same time, Hibernius.'

Vancha grumbled, cheeks a little redder than the usual shade of sunburnt pink. Hibernius laughed and continued mercilessly:

'He's already asked where your van is. He wants to snuggle into bed with you to pay back his debt for bringing him here.'

'. . . . . . .Huh?'

'I declined, of course, but he's looking all over the place, and wondering why you sleep during the day.'

'. . . . . . .Oh.'

'You'll have to tell him some time.'

'Do you reckon he'll believe me?'

'I don't know. Maybe Evra's already told him about you. Anyway, I have to go and talk to Cormac about our profits and uses before our next move. Go and talk to Harley before he goes to bed, and please, convince him to let Truska clean him up a little. We don't need two Vanchas here.'

'You make me feel so special, Hib, thankyou.'

'You are welcome. Now, if you will excuse me. . . So much to do, and so little time.'

Hibernius stood up, walked to the door, and showed Vancha out of his van into the twilight-blue campsite.

* * *

'Vancha!'

Harley's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Vancha - he was in the north end of the camp, walking around with a squealing Evra on his shoulders, whistling an unfamiliar tune. He ran towards Vancha, making Evra scream on his shoulders, but not caring.

'You don't mind me calling you Vancha, do you?'

'Of course not. Did you like your first day here?'

'Kind of.'

Harley said vaguely, but Vancha knew that he was just too shy to admit that he loved it. It was obvious. That adult-ish air, those cold, calculating eyes, everything he'd worn deliberately for the past ten years had been stripped away, and now he was just a child like Evra. Just a child, a little boy who had found, at last, somewhere to call 'home'. Vancha smiled, burping with delight.

'I heard from Hib that you've been avoiding Truska.'

'Heh,' Harley snorted, 'That bitch keeps on trying to get me to bathe! I haven't washed myself since I was. . .'

'Truska isn't a b. . . b'word!'

Evra argued, kicking at Harley with his little scaly legs.

'Shit, stop it, Ev. . . . fuck, ouch!'

Harley winced in pain as Evra kicked his jaw up, and grabbed the snakeboy's legs.

'Sorry, okay? I won't call that bitch a bitch again.'

'You just did!'

Evra pouted, trying to swing his legs free. Harley sighed and grabbed the squirming Evra's hips, and lowered the boy to the ground. Evra then started pounding his fists at Harley's thighs, but Harley just huffed and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

'I can't imagine having a kid.'

'Neither can I, but I bet it would be very interesting.'

Vancha chuckled, grabbing Evra around the waist, hugging the little body close, the threw him over his left shoulder. Evra squirmed, trying to escape the vampire's grip around the thighs.

'Neeh! Vanchaaaa! Let go of me! I'll be all smelly!'

'Then how about we all go to Truska and have a bath?'

'Bath? I like baths! Truska makes nice bubbles.'

Evra smiled broadly, the grin showing his scaled dimples. Harley frowned, taking a step backwards.

'. . .You can't make me.'

'Oh yes I can.'

Vancha chuckled and grabbed Harley around the waist, throwing him over his shoulder as if he weighed as much as a hen. Harley gasped, shocked, but started squirming and kicking like the snakeboy on the other shoulder.

'Let! Go! Of! Me!'

'Nope.'

'I don't want a close-up of your arse!'

'Live with it.'

'Let go of my thighs, pervert, or else I'll. . . . fuck, just let go!'

'Sorry, can't. Cirque master's orders.'

'Mr Tall's?'

Evra stopped kicking and squirming, a blush forming at his cheeks. Vancha chuckled.

'Yes, Mr Tall's orders.'

'Aaaaaaah, something definitely there, ain't there, Ev? Your crush?'

Harley stopped squirming also, cocking his head sideways, watching Evra blush furiously. Harley chuckled as no answer came from Evra. Evra pouted, looking away from Harley, kicking at Vancha's chest again. Harley stopped laughing, and slid a teasing finger down Vancha's spine.

'Vancha. . . . '

'What?'

Vancha replied, trying not to let the sliding finger get the better of the calm of his voice. Harley lowered his head and leaned on Vancha's back, his left cheek warming Vancha's shoulder blade.

'Why do you sleep during the day?'

'Well. . . . '

Vancha gulped, unsure where to start. Evra stopped kicking, raising his head and stared at Harley.

'He's a vampire, Harry, didn't you know?'

'Stop calling me Harry, will you? It's Har-ley. Har, L, ee, as in the bike. . . . wait. . . . what the fucking hell did you just say?'

'He's a vampire. And don't swear, I'll tell Truska you said the f-word, and she'll spank you with her beard!'

'He's a _what_?'

'I'm a vampire, Harley,' Vancha interrupted, chuckling, 'it's not as if you're going to be so surprised, is it? You've seen a beard-growing woman, a limb-growing man, a snakeboy - what's new? A vampire.'

'But. . . but you. . .you're not. . .'

'A blood-sucking monster?'

'Er, well . . . I was thinking more on the lines of beauty. I thought vampires were supposed to be pale and . . . beautiful.'

'Well, sorry to have disappointed you. I'm a bloody individual and loner, and I'm damn proud to be.'

Vancha chuckled, spitting on the ground.

'But I heard people calling you _sire_, once, Vancha, what does sire mean?'

Evra said, wonder in his voice. Harley snorted, chuckling:

'Sire? You're kidding me. It's not like you're some war-lord or president or _prince_, is it?'

'Actually, I am.'

_'Huh_?'

'Sorry to not be blonde, handsome, clad in shimmering armour and riding a silver-white stallion, but I still am one. I'm a vampire Prince.'

'. . . . I think I'm going to get a headache.'

Harley flopped his head on Vancha's back again, sighing. Vancha felt shivers go up his spine as he felt Harley's stomach muscles tense and relax on his shoulder, the boy's slim figure draped over him, soft, warm and just so damn perfect. Vancha shook his head, forced out a burp, and knocked on Truska's van. A tall, slender woman opened the door, and blinked to see a smelly, disgusting mob standing there (well, technically the only one standing was Vancha because the other two were thrown over his shoulders).

'Vancha. What you come for?'

Truska smiled affectionately, touching Vancha's cheek with a slim finger. Vancha's lips loosened into a sloven grin, Evra struggled to turn around, beaming at the woman - and Harley glared at her, more so because she was touching Vancha than the fact that she was going to wash them. Vancha replied in a language Harley did not know - he pointed at Harley and Evra - Truska rolled her eyes, nodded, and showed them inside.

* * *

'It's bloody BOILING! Let me OUT!'

'It not hot. Evra was fine in it minute ago! Stop being wuss and be cooperative!'

'I _beg_ you, beardwoman! I HATE baths! Sweet fucking god, I hate it, I do, and why doesn't the smelliest man in camp have to clean himself?'

'Oh yes he will, right after I finished with you, 'arley. And if I hear your dirty tongue again. . .'

'WHAT?'

Vancha got up from the van floor, shocked. Truska turned around, face dead serious.

'Yes, Vancha, I _will _clean you. I will ban you from sleeping here forever if you don' smell better than fermented rat vomit.'

'But Truskaaaa. . . .'

'No puppy dog eyes. They don' work on me now, Vancha, you know it. No bath, no sleeping in my van.'

Truska said firmly, scrubbing at Harley (who Vancha couldn't see because the bath had a silk curtain around it) who choked at the shampoo's sweet smell of roses. He poked his head out of the silk curtains and grinned at Vancha, bubbles on his face and head.

'Why don't you come join me, then? The water's a bit hot but the bubbles aren't that bad. . . and I can show you my tattoo?'

Vancha choked and spluttered, flopping back onto the ground with a headache. But before he could accept or decline the offer, Truska glared and pushed Harley back into the curtains.

'You have tattoo? You bad, bad boy! Where? Show me!'

'On my arse, see? Angel wings. 's pretty, huh?'

'How _could_ you? I rip your skin off and rub salt into it, that ought get rid of evil thing like that!'

'You wouldn't dare!'

Harley gasped, swishing around in the bath to guard his backside from a murderously glaring Truska, resulting in splashes of bubbly hot water all over the van floor. Truska kept her stance, grabbing at Harley behind the curtains.

'You not old enough for tattoo! In my country, only pirates have tattoos. Shows you are evil man!'

'I bet in your country there weren't many pirates with wings on their arses, though.'

Harley commented, a smirk in his voice. Truska had lost it. She cursed in her own strange language, grabbed the spiky sponge, and started scrubbing at Harley furiously.

'Ouch, bitch, _stop it_, dammit, you're gonna make scratches on my perfect arse!'

Harley whacked Truska's arms off, jumped out of the bath, and ran to Vancha, fully naked and covered in bubbles. Vancha fell into a coughing fit again, while Harley hid behind his back and glared at a fuming Truska. Vancha cleared his throat, trying his hardest not to look down at Harley's body - concentrating on the boy's face. That's it, face. Bits of rose-bubbly hair stuck to his face and dripped water down at the floor, his cheeks flushing slightly from the bathing. He bit his lip, clutched onto Vancha's purple furs and glared straight back at Truska who was doing her 'you get back here or else' glare that Vancha knew well. Vancha sighed and whispered to Truska in her language:

'Truska, he's clean enough, let him be.'

'No. Vancha, he is still bubbly. And I need to rub that evil tattoo off his bottom. Now step aside.'

'You know tattoos won't wash off. There's no need to get so stressed about it.'

'You don't understand.'

'What makes you think that?'

'Fine. Protect him if you want.'

Truska sighed, and put the bubbly wet sponge back in the bathtub. She turned to Vancha and Harley again, and spoke in English.

'Both of you get out my van, now. You both banned for week.'

'Fine by me!'

Harley poked his tongue out, grinning cheekily, the bubbles on his head making subtle popping noises as he shook the wet hair out of his face. Truska sighed, picked up Harley's clothes, and. . . . threw them into the bath tub. Harley gasped -

'My clothes!'

'They dirty. Hibernius don' like them anyway. Wear these.'

Truska sighed, throwing over a towel and a bright coloured costume Vancha had never seen before.

'And get out of van before I make you.'

* * *

'For fuck's sake, Vancha, I'm NOT wearing this!'

'What, would you rather run around naked, then?'

'Yeah!'

Harley glared back at Vancha levelly, who sighed and sat down next to him. The vampire's temporary tent was a little cold and small, not at all fitting for two people, but they had managed to somehow fit. Vancha couldn't blame Harley. I mean, it's pink. It's frilly. It's one of those frilly-necked pink costumes that clowns wear. It would be hilarious to see him in it, Vancha smirked, but no, he'd never put it on.

'Harlequinn, I heard you've got this place in an uproar - you're corrupting Evra, you've disobeyed Truska, and you're giving the cirque master a headache. And _I'm _not exactly happy either, because I have now lost my rights to Truska's van.'

'What, are you trying to give me a lecture? And who wants to sleep in that old woman's van, anyway, huh? If you want someone to sleep with, you always have me!'

Harley grinned - Vancha palmed his forehead, biting his lip.

'That's not what I meant, dammit, just. . . behave.'

'. . . Behave? Make me.'

'I'm begging you.'

'Maybe when I get some decent clothes on.'

'. . . . Neither of us are allowed anywhere near the vicinity of Truska's van, or else we'll both end up with very painful whip marks, or worse - she'll chop off something of ours that we find rather valuable. How do you think we'll get your clothes back?'

'. . . I'm NOT wearing THIS.'

Harley glared, gesturing towards the pink frilly pile. Vancha sighed.

'Alright, Harley, what do you propose we do then?'

'How about. . . .'

He grinned, then lifted up some of Vancha's animal skin, swiftly climbed under and popped his head out next to Vancha's head, snuggling up to him.

'. . .This?'

'HARLEY!'

'What?'

'You know PERFECTLY well what! You are NOT sharing my clothes, I only have one pair, and. . .'

'We only _need_ one pair. I can just stay like this.'

'I repeat, you are _not_ sharing my clothes.'

'You call these clothes? It stinks worse than mine did, and they're not even cloths.'

'Get _out _of my clothes, brat, you are invading my personal space. . .'

Vancha hissed, only too aware of Harley's completely naked body closer to him than it ever was. Harley paid no attention, only snuggling even closer, his cold, smooth skin silky to the touch.

'. . . . You're so warm. . .'

He mumbled sleepily, before tipping his head onto Vancha's shoulder, and closing his eyelids.

* * *

A.N. (cont.) - I swear, that went far too quickly. . . But I still have a few more chapters to go, (that I admit I haven't even written yet), so forgive XD

**Inyx**

Yes, I posted, and I love you too! (huggle) I'm sure Vancha would appreciate some nice strawberries - AND the company of coughcoughKurdacough another clan-obsessed man. It amuses me to no extent how you love Harley so much XDD I'm so glad you like him, you being the OC-hating girl that you are. And sorry for the non-random-french-ness, just in case you're disappointed XD Harley was innocent mostly totally through this chapter, wasn't he. . (bonks head) I'm so bad at character constructing. Poor Mr Tall is going to have a hard time keeping Harley away from all the men XD I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and please know that I can only write because of the inspiration you give me, my Gannen!

**Yayfulness **

Eep XDD I hope I didn't disappoint you - but I'm glad you liked the first chapter, and thankyou for the review!

**cold-night09**

Hopefully it will be a cute heart-warming story... I'll try my best. XD Thankyou for reviewing!

**SugarInMyTea**

XDD You like manwhores? Me too! (this is such an awkward topic to talk about XDD). I'm hoping I kept at the "keeping characters in character" thing, because you're the only one who thinks I keep the characters in character XDDD Thankyou, you made my day XD

**Showjumper916 **

Warm and fuzzy is what I'm aiming it to be XDD I hope it will work out that way. Thanks for the encouragement!

**Kirin the Vampiress**

I'm glad you're so happy about it XD Yes, you love Vancha, don't you, I thought you would like it XD but dancing around school computer lab is perhaps not the greatest of ideas if you want people to think you're sane. Eep (hides) it's not so good that you can steal it, but if you want to steal it, you need Inyx's permission because this belongs to her. You got book 9? TT My most LEAST favourite book. (cringes) Hate hate hate hate hate. Here, all the books are out, and the next series by Darren Shan "Lord Loss" is about to come out in June or July. The DS series are all out in Japanese as well. Anyway thanks for the review and the encouragement!

**The Freaky Butt Mate**

(sings along with you) Unexpecteeed. . . Not my favourite hyde song, but the lyrics seemed apt for the story XD Ooh, I'm sure Vancha will make his dear little face glow too, very soon. . . (grin) My portrayal of Evra comes from Inny's ideas, so it doesn't exactly belong to me... Oh dear. I love those abused little boys too! (huggles them happily) (huggles Socks) Thanks as always for your reviews that make me so happy XD

**Salvatore Shan NW**

Yay! Another Vancha lover! (huggles you) I'll make Vancha happy, somehow, somewhere through this fic, but maybe not at the end. . . hmm. (loves unhappy endings). Ooh, you have a gay best friend? How AWESOME! Hello! (waves to him) I love you! (cough) Anyway, I hope you both enjoy this, and maybe I will write a Larten/Darren fic for you some day since you love them so much XD Thanks for the review!


	3. A Drop Of Colour

**A.N.** - I can almost feel people throwing tomatoes at their screen going "What took you so damn long and WHY ARE YOU UPDATING THIS ONE?". Reason: I had two flus in one week, I completely screwed up my leg (as in can't walk), I'm suicidally stressed about uni exams, I was in Japan for two bloody weeks emptying 17 year old fish cans, and I'm in the middle of a brain-stop writer's block. Why this one? Because. . .

It was **INYX's** BIRTHDAY (about two months ago)!

Happy happy late birthday, my favourite girl, I love you so very very much and I hope you had a great day. This chapter's song I chose especially for you (me no own hyde, everyone. If I did, he'd be in my closet, tied up.). XD

* * *

You gently nourish my dry skin

**A DROP OF COLOUR** saves me from

The fate I'm facing everyday

A single bloom, piercing the snowdrift

How softly, the springtime breezes sing

How deeply, the distant mountains breathe

There are so many things to show to you,

One of these days. . . .

* * *

Vancha swore softly at the chill as he stepped out into the cold winter night's air. The sun had sunk far beyond the horizon now, and if it weren't for his vampire abilities, it would be pitch black.

'Damn that boy', Vancha thought, 'if it weren't for that brat I wouldn't be half naked in the bloody snow.'

Indeed, there was snow. Just soft droplets of watery white ice, melting the moment it met his skin. He had left Harley in his tent, covered in half his animal skins, snuggled closely to the makeshift blankets he used. Damn was he sweet when he slept - it brought a smirk to Vancha's pale lips just remembering the boy's relaxed face. No try-hard bad-ass, no pretend-slut, no sign of any of the hardships he must have gone through. Just pure innocence, a smile sweeter than anything Vancha had ever known, curled up into a ball as if to protect himself from something. Someone, even.

Already a week had passed since the boy had come to the cirque. Because Vancha slept through the day and walked at night, he couldn't see Harley often - but the boy would sneak out of his chores at sunset to come to Vancha's van. They would talk, laugh, joke - just seeing the boy's smile was enough to make Vancha feel warm inside, if not cliched too badly.

The snow was getting worse. It was starting to pile on the grounds of the camp. Hibernius would have to make a decision soon about when to leave, Vancha thought absentmindedly, licking his lips and tasting the slight bitterness of acid rain from the snowflakes. Stupid cities made even the most beautiful things fowl.

Even the most beautiful, beautiful things fowl.

The most beautiful boy - a whore.

Just imagining what sort of a life Harley had before he found him - made Vancha's stomach churn with disgust and hate. Hate towards someone, _people_, he didn't even know. The pain, the humiliation, everything Harley must have gone through pierced Vancha as if the snowflakes were falling directly onto his heart. Dare someone hurt something as beautiful as that? Something as pure and young? Such striking, intelligent eyes, such silky black hair, such soft, sweet skin . . . .

Vancha blinked, realising he had been thinking about Harley again. Perhaps this wasn't too good. Too much affection never went the right way, never. Just like with Gannen. . . Gannen, his brother, who he loved so very much, but look at it now - a total and utter mess. Vancha often wondered what would happen the next time he met his brother. What would he say? Would they pretend to hate eachother? Would he have to fight, to kill, even. What then? Or will they never see eachother again? See, the relationship only gets worse and worse.

Maybe it was time to make a move.

He'd already stayed at the cirque a few weeks, and he'd never stayed longer than a month. He'd leave before Truska would get angsty, Evra would get clingy, and Hibernius dependent on his ticket-selling. That was how they worked. One day he'd come, one day he'd be gone. Disposable. That's how he liked to be.

Vancha sighed into the sky, leaving a milky white swirl of vapour which froze in the air, swift and brief, disappearing in a whisp to leave the clear darkness as it was before.

* * *

'You're leaving, aren't you.'

Was the first thing Truska said. Her hair was down, falling onto her turquoise blue nightgown, eyes strangely empty and cold, as if she knew about this days ago. Vancha stared back at her, blinking. He had always gone to Truska first when he had to tell someone of his leaving - but this was the first time she had known about it before he even told her. Hibernius would know precisely when he was leaving, but that was because of his powers.

'Did Hibernius tell you?'

'. . .Come inside.'

She span around and went inside, leaving the door open for Vancha.

* * *

'You know that Harley isn't going to like this, don't you?'

She sighed, passing Vancha a hot milk mug. Boiled fresh milk with whipped cream on top. He sipped a little, yowled at the burn on his tongue, and burped.

'Yeah.'

'You know that he likes you a lot, don't you?'

'. . . . . Yeah.'

'You know how much you mean to him, don't you?'

'. . . For god's sakes, Truska, YES.'

'And still you're leaving him.'

'. . . I have to.'

'Why. _Why_ do you _always_ have to leave?'

'Because. . . '

'Because you're scared that _you're _going to start depending on him. Because you're scared that you're going to start liking him. Because you're scared that he'll start meaning a lot to you. Because you're scared of losing him.'

'Truska. . .'

'No, Vancha. I'm not letting this one go. If you leave now, you're going to lose him at any rate. And as for the other fears - it's too late. You're already starting to depend on him. You're already liking him more than you should be. He already means a lot to you. If you leave him now, you're only hurting your own feelings, let alone ours.'

Truska said in one breath in her own strange tongue, staring fixedly at Vancha with her cold, sea-grey eyes. There was a silence. Long, and so very quiet. Snow erases all sound as it makes its way to the ground. Snowy nights are the quietest of all. Even the wolfman wasn't howling tonight.

'. . . I know you're right, Truska, but. . . . this is just my way. He can't start depending on me. He has to find someone else. Hib will take care of him. Evra will be his friend. He doesn't need me, it doesn't have to be me.'

'That's what you think.'

'If I leave him now, he won't be as attached - if he does become attached, Truska, I couldn't, I couldn't. . . I couldn't stand it. I couldn't live. If he dies before me, it would kill me. If I die before him, it would kill _him_. If I care for him, I'll become blind, I might choose _him_ over the clan -'

'Clan, clan, clan. It's always about your clan, isn't it? Why don't you take him, for god's sakes? Is being a vampire prince so satisfying? Have you ever thought of retiring, Vancha? Have you ever thought of settling down somewhere with someone, and NOT being the hero for a change? NOT risking your life, NOT risking others' happiness, NOT risking your own happiness? You're always like that. You were like that with me. You chose the clan. If you love the clan so much, leave, and don't come back here to give me hope. Don't come back here to pick up random boys off the street who won't be able to live without you! It would have been so much easier for _me_ if you just wouldn't come back! It would have been for his good if you just left him alone!'

'Are you saying he was better off selling himself on the streets, are you?'

'YES! I'm sure you have no idea how much it hurts to lose someone you love, though, Vancha. I've lost my family, I know. I feel like I lose you every time you leave, because I don't know you'd ever come back alive. If you made that boy love you, and you leave him - you're making him lose someone he loves! The FIRST person he's loved! Do you know how much that hurts? You don't, do you? Because you've _never loved anyone_!'

'Truska!'

'. . . . . . I have nothing else to say, Vancha. If you came to tell me you're leaving, I know. If you came for my opinion, you have it. Now leave.'

* * *

The next day. Vancha woke up earlier than he always did - just an hour or so before sunset began. He decided to do his daily sunbaking now - and stepped outside.

The camp grounds were still light, bits of squishy snow from last night still lingering on the ground and glistening in the afternoon sun. Most of it was scraped to the side, mingled with dirt and not looking almost as mysterious and beautiful as it did last night.

'Vanchaaa!'

The voice came exactly simultaneously with a thump on his back. Evra had full-body tackled him, grinning his scaley full-face grin. Vancha picked him up, swung him around once, and grinned back.

'Whatcha up to, Evra?'

'Making a snowman! It snowed, Vancha, it snowed!'

Evra exclaimed, swinging his little arms around in frantic excitement, eyes sparkling like emeralds in the sunlight.

'Indeed it did.'

'I was making snowmen with Harry all day!'

'Oh? What about your chores?'

'We had a day off!'

'Day off?'

'Yeah! The adults told us to go away and play, because we'll get in the way.'

'In the way of. . .?'

'Cleaning up.'

Evra grinned again, as Vancha lowered him to the ground. Cleaning up? Cleaning _what _up?

'Morning, sleepyhead!'

Cold, slim hands slipped over Vancha's eyelids. Vancha grinned.

'Morning, Harley. God, your hands are freezing!'

Vancha grabbed Harley's hands, took them in his own, and rubbed them warm. Harley blinked, then pulled his hands back quickly.

'I-I'm fine! I'll just pop them in my pockets, they'll be fine!'

'Okay, then,' Vancha smiled.

'Hey! You're out in the sun! Aren't you supposed to turn to ash, or shrivel up, or melt or something?'

'I'm fine if it's just for a few hours, didn't I tell you?'

'Hmm. . . You did?'

'Who's the sleepyhead now?'

Vancha rolled his eyes - Harley chuckled, and then in a sudden rush, as if remembering something important, opened his mouth.

'We're leaving, Vancha! We're heading south!'

'So Hibernius decided to move?'

'Yup! I get to leave my hometown, Vancha! Something I wanted to do all these years - I hope I'll never see this place again.'

The way Harley said that, the slight flickering darkness in his eyes - made Vancha's heart sink a mile.

'Heey, aren't you excited Vancha? We're moving! We're going somewhere warmer, perhaps a huge big town, perhaps near the great river! Oh - I've never seen the great river before, wouldn't it be great if it was warm enough and we could swim in it? Well actually, I can't exactly swim, but you can, right? So. . . ,' Harley smirked, another one of those shrewd, seductive looks in his eyes, 'you can always teach me -'

'I can swim too, Harry! I'll teach you!'

Evra exclaimed excitedly, tugging at Harley's sleeve. Harley laughed.

'Er. . . Thanks Ev - and - by the way, my name's Har-LEY.'

'Haarr lee?'

'Har-LEY.'

'...Har-lel ler ar.. larley... Nuu, I like Harry better!'

'Okay, okay,' Harley sighed, flipping his hands up in resignation.

Vancha watched the boys' conversation absentmindedly. Alright, so the cirque was moving. Perhaps Hibernius read what Vancha was thinking, and decided to make it easier for him. There wasn't a better time for him to leave - there would be no left-behind-business, and everyone would be too busy to notice him gone. But how was he going to tell Harley? Harley would definitely notice. Evra was used to him coming and going, but - how was Harley going to take it all? No, he knew what Harley was going to say. Vancha wondered which was more terrifying - the thought of telling Harley of his leaving, or the thought of explaining to the boy why he can't take him.

* * *

By evening the campgrounds were cleared. The adults were exhausted, and had gone to bed early in preparation for the long traveling day tomorrow. However, five people were still awake - Hibernius had planned for them a little party, to celebrate the official joining-in of Harley (although Vancha suspected Hibernius had created some time for him to tell the boy about the leaving).

They were at the beach, in the middle of the night, baking marshmallows. There couldn't have been a stranger sight. A vampire, an insanely tall cirque master, a blonde woman, a scale-covered snakeboy and a teenage boy all sitting down around a little fire on the beach, toasting marshmallows.

'Oooooowwwwww! It burns!' Evra squealed, sticking his long slim tongue out, tears in his eyes as he glared at the molten marshmallow.

'There, there,' Hibernius smiled, stroking the snakeboy's hair, passing him a cup of water.

'Fuuuuuuuuuck!' Harley blinked, as his last marshmallow melted off his stick and disappeared into the fire with a pop and a sizzle. Truska raised a warning eyebrow at Harley, who quickly corrected himself 'I meant FUG. Isn't it nice to not have fug in the evenings?'

'Idiot,' Vancha laughed, passing Harley his own stick, 'here, have these.'

'Score!' Harley visibly 'squee'-ed, swaying in his spot and lapping at the soft, hot marshmallows.

A few meters away from them, the moon illuminated the soft salty bubbles and sparkling seawater as they slid over the silver sand and lapped at the pebbly beach. Tiny white crabs scuttled across the sand, reflecting the moon rays and shining like little lightbulbs in the clear darkness.

Hours passed like minutes, minutes like seconds. Evra ran around the beach, chasing the crabs around. The others sat around the weak cracking fire, watching the snake boy stumble and splash in the winter water.

'Look Mister Tall! The white seamonster can only walk sideways!'

'Really?' Mr Tall smiled, a loving twinkle in his eyes as he watched over the little boy.

'Mr Taaaaall! Come! Look, the seamons---- OWCH! It bit meeeee! Oooowwww,' Evra screamed, waving his scaly arms around trying to flick the crab off his hand.

Mr Tall sighed, got up and walked over, swiftly tending to the urgent situation. Truska hummed softly, eyeing the crab Mr Tall managed to take off a squirming, squealing Evra.

'Mmm, that crab look good. Better go fetch it, soup for tomorrow!'

She flashed a meaningful glance at Vancha before grinning at Harley, flicking her sandals off and running off towards the other two.

An awkward silence followed. Vancha scratched his head and burped, watching Truska, Evra and Hibernius chase little white crabs over the beach.

'They look just like a little family, don't they?'

'...They sure do.'

More silence. Okay, Harley is NOT chattering his head off - this is scary, weird, and eery. However, this may be the chance Vancha was waiting for.

'Harley. . . . I . . . need to talk to you.'

'You always talk to me anyway?'

'But Harley. . . I. . .'

'Oooh, Cormac said that we can travel in _his_ van tomorrow - apparently it's a long journey, and his van's really comfy! You don't want my pretty arse to get demented, do you now? And you know what? He's driving, so he won't be in the van! Truska's got her own van and Ev's going in Tallguy's van, so I guess it's just the two of us. . . hey?'

'Harley. . . .!'

Vancha's breath caught in his throat when he felt Harley's cheek rest against his shoulder. It was warm. It was soft. The feeling was so natural and so perfect, that the vampire wished absentmindedly that it would stay like this forever. He knew how stupid that sounded, but it was sincere. However, Harley moved his head up a little, this time brushing his thin, soft lips over Vancha's earlobe. Needless to say, this sent violent shivers up the old vampire's spine.

'Vancha. . . . Don't look so serious. . . ' the boy whispered, each vowel and consonant forming its unique caressing whisp, brushing past Vancha's ear and making him gulp, 'I'm happy as we are. . . . I don't want anything to change, I don't like it when you don't. . . . don't look like you're about to say something funny. When you look like you're about to cry on me. Please stay the way you were, Vancha. . . .'

'Harley. . . .!' Vancha tried extremely hard to add a touch of a warning note to his voice, but it came out a husky whisper.

'Vancha. . . ' Harley whispered into the vampire's ear again, then breathed along the neck, the collarbone, up the chin . . .

Vancha had almost passed out by the time Harley was up to his lips. He decided to ignore the feeling growing in his lower body.

'Harley, I. . .'

The rest was muffled into a grunt by Harley's lips. It was a brief kiss, soft and sweet - Harley smiled against Vancha's lips, then swiftly ran his warm, wet tongue over the vampire's dry lips. To Vancha, it seemed as though time stopped right there - as they gazed into each others' eyes, and for that moment, that moment only, everything inside him melted into understanding, and he was left totally speechless. When Harley opened his mouth to whisper again, Vancha could feel every single word the boy pronounced.

'Vancha, I love you just the way you are. I don't want you to change. . . .Please don't change. . . Please don't say anything.'

It was then that Vancha realised how shaky the boy's voice was. His eyes were wet, his voice was cracking and his body was trembling all over. Vancha grabbed his arms, and pulled the boy into his chest, stroking his back comfortingly.

'I won't, Harley, I won't. . .'

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Vancha bit his still-moist lip - there was one thing he was damn sure of, and it was that he could never bring himself to tell Harley about leaving.

* * *

A.N. (contd) - Shut up. I was sleepy. And desperate. ...I wonder what's going to happen next chapter. Ahahahaha. Shiiiiiiiiiite. TT

I can continue because of the reviews I get - so keep them coming, pleeease:D

**KurdaSmahltlover**

Of course I remember you! I'm glad you like this story - and I've ALWAYS had a Vancha obsession. It will never win over my Kurda obsession, though! Muaha. OH! Was that YOUR story? Wooh. You come up with the craziest, funkiest things! I grovel in your existence.

**Green eyes**

Yes! Vancha really should be God. He's gone through so much. O.o Poor thing. The rating's not going to get any higher, I don't think. . . There are some other stories I switched the rating of, but I don't think I will make it go higher for this one. Thanks for reading and reviewing! 3

**Showjumper916**

XDDDD I'm glad you think it's warm and fuzzy. I'm trying my hardest to make it warm and fuzzy, not sleek and dirty like ToL... O.o Yup, Harley has a tattoo on his bum. But I guess Truska and Harley made up afterwards XDDD

**SugarInMyTea**

Your reviews flatter me too much! Really, I don't deserve such praise. XD Evra is the cutest thing in existence. Don't you just love him and his bubbles? XDDD I'm sorry though about the double-e-mail (I think?) for this chapter O.o It would have gotten you excited twice? Disappointed? One of the two. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took so long, and thanks for reviewing!

**millie-sama**

Thanks XD Erm... Well... if he has other tattoos, I guess that's for Vancha to find out. XDDD

**yayfulness **

I'm glad you love Harley! If you want to borrow him, he'll make you pay a LOT of money... or lollies. He'd do anything for lollies.

**viper and teal**

Thankyou! I love you too! XD

**Kirin the Vampiress**

Two Vanchas? TWO? That would stink the whole world down, man! Arse? Well, that's a polite way of saying ass. XD WOH, you too? I was voted most perverted and psychotic in my grade. XD Oh yes, book 9 pissed me off SO VERY MUCH. It was really ugly. Great writing, but still painful. Yup, Harley is pretty hawt! I think. Yeah, since he had to sell himself. XDD Yes, Inyx is making me write all these slash stories, and if you want to send her hate mail, don't, because there's no way you'll win an argument with Inyx. Aand... No, I'm probably not going to finish Amaris. I WILL privately, like write it and all, but just for my pleasure. I don't think I'll update it. Sorry :(

**Salvatore Shan NW**

Awww, Chris. XD and I thought I'd found a real-life Harley. Well, my brother's like Harley, if you want to know. I based Harley on my brother! Mmm, I don't know if I can surprise you - but I hope I will! Thankyou for your encouragement, as always.

**Inyx**

Don't worry, it took me 2 years to figure out what that phrase meant. XDDD We've already talked about this story so much... I don't think there's much to say. . . XDD

True, shagging Vancha would just get him dirty and smelly again. Poor Harley. 'Vancha always shags me like this' XDDDDDDDDD I hope it will become that. O.o It's kind of... Hell-ish right now. Ew. XDDD SQUEE! His prince in smelly deerskin riding on !#$#!)98$#& (cough) I'll stop...now. Yes. We shall talk this over on MSN. Eep, I forgot to comment on Harley's clothes XDD I think he's just wearing Cormac's old clothes. Gasp, I also forgot to put in random french. ToT SORRY!

Yes, I really should make it up to Tall some time. . . What have I done so far? Half-kill him with Evra's cooking. O.o NOT GOOD. I'm sorry, Hibbie!

**The Freaky Butt Mate**

Yes, I updated! For a nice change. XD

I'm so glad you like Harley so much! Harley seems to be popular, but as he belongs to Inyx (as long as she pays him and feeds him lollies), you can't have him. x.x; Sorry. . .BUT! More hyde, just like you wanted XDDD LOVELESS ROCKS! SOUBI NEEDS TO BE NEUTERED BEFORE HE GOES ANYWHERE NEAR RITSUKA-CHAN!


End file.
